


under your thumb

by strong



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1970s, Blow Jobs, Exhibitionism, Implied Ziam, M/M, Venice Beach, and vandalism, everyone loves vandalism, harry roller skates, liam is a surfer, three are skaters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-09
Updated: 2015-03-09
Packaged: 2018-03-17 00:49:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3508961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strong/pseuds/strong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>where the year is 1975, louis is the leader of a misfit group of boys in venice, and harry is a roller skater who somehow finds his way in</p>
            </blockquote>





	under your thumb

**Author's Note:**

> so this isn't based on lords of dogtown, but it really is based on lords of dogtown. how could i watch it and not put the members of one direction into it?
> 
> i wrote this over a span of five months i think so seriously, if you find a plothole or something wrong, _please_ let me know because i don't want to be that one fic writer that everyone complains about. that would be a nightmare. there's also a slight overuse of curse words and pet names, but, you know, it was the seventies. times were obviously very different. (maybe)
> 
> finally i'd like to thank [adri](http://archiveofourown.org/users/nightwideopen/pseuds/nightwideopen) for betaing this and leaving me dumb comments on the side of every other paragraph. it means a lot.

There’s never a point, Louis thinks, where you actually get used to the salt-stricken, sticky air of Venice in the middle of Summer. Maybe not even just Venice, but Southern California as a whole, humid entity in itself.

It’s just past seven and while the sun’s not quite made it into its daily spot in the presently cloudless sky, its rays are still sending off an abundance of heat that has Louis itching to shed off his already small amount of clothing. At the moment, he’s leaning lazily against a stone wall — or, more specifically, the backside of a small local market — with one foot propped back as he soaks in the morning light. Beside him, one of his few close friends, Zayn, is crouching over a worn duffle bag, attempting to sort out their spray cans and find out which ones aren’t on their last legs.

“Shit, Z, can you keep it down with the clanging?” Louis huffs with a kick of his shoe, peering down at the boy below him. “There’s gotta be someone around here that’ll bust us if we make a fuckton of noise. Vandalism isn't a celebration here.”

Zayn looks up at him through thick lashes, his dark hair nearly covering the flash of annoyance that appears in his caramel eyes. “Alright you fuck, if you think _you_ can sort out metal cans without making some noise, get at it then.”

Rather than replying, Louis just closes his eyes and rests his head back against the wall. How did he convince himself that vandalizing buildings before eight A.M. with a guy who probably hates mornings more than him would be a bright idea?

He opens his eyes again when he finally hears the familiar slurring sound of the cans being shaken up. From the looks of it, they’ve got red, white, and black to work with today which is a lucky break considering all the other horrendous colors they could’ve gotten stuck with. Good thing they used the last of those up on a full mural on the side of the laundromat last week— they did well on a splitting image of a rainbow bleeding over a skull.

“Does the design look tacky?" Zayn asks when they finish spraying on the last coat of red. "I mean, the rest of the wall is pictures then we wrote somethin' out, you know?"

Louis takes a step back to examine their work. It's nothing extraordinary, just one word sprayed in three dimensional block lettering over a portion of the stone: _'ZOOTS'._

There isn't much of an important meaning behind the phrase. In short, it's just a slang word made up as a code for a spliff or a joint. Both Louis and Zayn are a bit heavy with the various drug usages, so while there are small acts rising up throughout the country to legalize marijuana, they figured they might as well make use of the time and take part in it all, therefore inspiring their latest design idea.

"Nah man, it looks sick against all the other fading flowers and whack tunnel patterns," Louis assures his friend with a small smile. There's always a feeling of pride he gets whenever they finish a new piece. It's not anything over the work they've put into it, just more over the fact that each time they do it, they're marking a new piece of their territory, setting it straight that this is their home to own and control.

"Ready to roll, then?" Zayn asks him, already throwing the cans back into his duffel. 

"Yeah, man," Louis replies with a toothy grin, sharp teeth on full display. He steps on the back of his board to flip it up into his hand then watches as Zayn does the same, marveling at the languid way in which he does it. "Fuck, are you dropping the paints at home first? Liam's gonna flip shit if we're late to the pier again."

The comment doesn't seem to affect Zayn much. He just throws the strap of the bag over his shoulder and hops onto his board with a lazy grin. 

"Liam loves us," he assures Louis.

Louis throws his own board down then, looking at it and noting that his shoes are much more scuffed up than Zayn's. It's not fair that they have matching reverse purple and orange Vans but Zayn's look thirty times nicer than Louis', the fabric of them nearly sparkling. "Liam loves _you_ , bro, I just ride in circles while he drools over your hot, hot body."

Zayn flips him off with a scorching glare while Louis cackles, rolling the board beneath his feet back and forth in anticipation. 

"Painful truth, dude!" Louis bites back before kicking off down the street, leaving Zayn standing off behind him.

Within seconds he hears a second set of wheels crunching over the cracked asphalt signaling Zayn coming up behind him. He appears a moment later, his figure looming in the corner of Louis' eye.

Unlike Louis, Zayn becomes focused when he skates, his face set stern as he expertly swivels his hips and ducks to the ground to weave through the obstacles of the streets. His dark hair flows freely in the wind when it’s not tied up in a bun, but he's almost constantly reaching up to run his fingers through it or hold it in place.

As Zayn cuts in front of Louis, the smell of thick cologne has him coughing and calling out some indecent comment, earning him yet another blindly-thrown middle finger. Louis is much more of a carefree boarder than Zayn, and that only causes them to clash a minimal amount of times each week. Or day.

Louis revels more in the thrill of boarding rather than the logistics behind it. As long as the wind's blowing through his hair and the wheels beneath him are still rolling along the ground, everything else might as well be nonexistent. He's got no problem with scuffing himself up by weaving straight through traffic or groups of people, just ignores the scratches and laughs with a wide grin in response to the honks and hollers people all throw at him. Zayn occasionally chastises him for it, says they should have _some_ decency for the 'regulars' but Louis brushes him off with a roll of his bright blue eyes every time.

They make it quick enough to their shared dingy little home. Louis rides up and down the crumbling street while Zayn climbs in through the open front window to throw the bag down in his room. Once he's finished the quick task, they set off in the opposite direction again, the sun's rays reflecting off their golden skin as they roll down the familiar path towards the pier.

Louis knocks over a couple of trash cans in his efforts to perform tricks on the sidewalk, but it's nothing too major. They won't get locked up for spilling some cans. When they arrive to the burned ruins of the old Pacific Ocean Park, Liam and Niall are already in the grimy parking lot perched on the hood of Liam’s new Ford Escort waiting for them. 

Niall’s one of the classic beach bums you’d expect to find in a place like Venice. With full bleached hair and an ever-present red tint to his skin from too much time under the sun, you’d think he was genuinely created from a blend of everything California stands for. He’s a longboarder too, one of the best in the area actually, and it suits well with his carefree, happy-go-lucky personality, making him the constant energy source of their group.

Liam on the other hand is more of an outsider, what with being a wealthy little surfer boy and having short hair and all the shit that people like Louis would normally hate. He manages to make up for it though by having a tough personality; anyone who can actually stand for themselves against Louis and Zayn’s antics is worthy enough to be in their ragtag group of friends.

The sun’s coming up in full swing now, beating down on them hard, so as soon as Louis skids to a stop in front of the car, he’s ripping his shirt off and tucking it through a belt loop of his frayed jean shorts.

“Oww! Take it off, Tommo!” Niall howls in greeting, banging his hand a few times on the blue metal. Liam knocks him in the shoulder for it then calls out his own more formal greeting to them.

“I love stripping for you little bitches,” Louis sighs with a feline smile as he pulls himself up onto the hood beside Niall. 

“I’m not even into guys but I can dig getting free strip shows from you daily,” Niall laughs genuinely. 

The smell of smoke suddenly fills the air and Louis snaps his eyes up in time to watch Zayn take a long drag of a cigarette before breathing the smoke back out slowly. While Louis is the real tease, the one who always shows people what they want and takes it away before they can even get a good glimpse, Zayn does a good job himself of keeping Liam and Louis on their toes pining over him. It’s just a shame that it’s clear he’s only ever _really_ been interested in Liam and plans to keep it that way.

“You need to find a guy, Lou,” Zayn says. “Find a little kitten to appreciate your tan skin and sinful curves. Stop wasting yourself on us fuckheads.”

“Hey, I’ll waste myself on you fuckheads if I wanna!” Louis replies defensively. He blows out a puff of air and throws himself back onto the front window, the glass heating his skin as he squints straight up at the sky. “Not my fault none of you have given in to my seduction attempts yet.”

“Brah, me and Zayn have both made out with you before,” Liam chips in with his ridiculous surfer lingo. He’s got a point, but Louis just throws and arm out to wave him away.

“Am I the only one who hasn’t made out with Tommo?” Niall questions boisterously. “Fuck! Why do I get left out of the good shit?”

All three of them stare at him then let out various degrees of laughter. There are comments thrown around about how easy Louis is while Niall keeps complaining about Louis never even coming on to him. 

“I didn’t come on to you ‘cus you’re always hooking up with chicks! Now I swear you’re not straight though, dude, you’re like a fucking bendy straw,” Louis tells him, rolling off the car to stand on the asphalt again. 

Before Louis knows what’s happening, there’s a blonde figure following his movements and then there’s lips pressed against his own. All he can hear is Zayn’s hollering and Liam’s loud laughter as Niall holds the back of Louis’ head and kisses him sloppily, barely gaining a response from the smaller brunette. 

It’s over in a matter of seconds once Louis’ brain realizes what’s happening and he shoves Niall back. The blonde boy practically tears up with laughter and his shaggy hair falls into his eyes as he throws his head back to howl into the air. Louis just reaches out and smacks him straight in the face before letting an over dramatic scowl make itself present on his own face. 

“Welcome to the club now, you fuckin’ jerk off.”

-

Venice isn't exactly a tourist attraction. No one wants to see the rundown bungalows lined along the ruined streets or risk their lives by walking through the sketchy areas all marked up with graffiti warnings of _'LOCALS ONLY'_. That's why there aren't many beaches and the ones that do exist are always overly crowded, leaving no space for people like Louis to lay out and skate down the paths haphazardly.

After over an hour of lingering around the pier watching Liam surf through broken wooden beams and keeping lookout for anyone who isn't a local, they're now all piled on top of each other in Liam's car yelling to whatever poppy, upbeat song is on the radio as they drive down the bumpy road to the beach.

As Liam pulls into a spot in front of the beach area, Louis finds himself grinning out at the sandy space full of nudists and homosexuals alike mixed with some regulars, all basking in the same thick light, some getting suspiciously close to one another. This place is like heaven to Louis; hot, naked or _near_ naked males, most of them interested in finding other males to grind against by the sea. Yes, _definitely_ a place created with Louis in mind.

“Come on you slow shits, my kitten's out there somewhere," Louis announces, throwing the door open and stumbling out, skateboard instantly set beneath his now-bare feet.

"You're gonna board at the beach?" Liam asks as they all climb out.

"Well there is the _board_ walk and I don't feel like fucking burning my feet on that hot ass sand so yes, I'm going to board, Liam. If you've got a problem with that then feel free to leave our clique," Louis bites.

"Not a clique you dumbass," Zayn chimes in. He's got his board too, and Louis smiles cockily to himself, satisfied with someone agreeing with his actions.

"Fuck off, Z," Louis scowls with no vengeance. "Come on clique, let's go. I need to pull while I've still got that sleep-ruffled morning look that every guy drops to his knees for."

Luckily they're all used to Louis' self absorbed, cocky personality at this point. Rather than arguing with him they just follow the orders, Liam strutting forward in his sandals and swim trunks, Niall ripping his shirt off and hopping onto his sacred long board.

He and Zayn kick forward then, Louis picking up speed quicker due to his lack of caution for people around them. He knits between groups of giggling girls, revelling in the teasing hollers they throw him without the knowledge that they have no chance with Louis who much prefers dicks. In a literal sense.

The stretch of the Venice boardwalk is quite long, littered with stores, street performers and small food joints, leaving a great path for Louis and Zayn to follow. Niall _should_ be with them but he's stuck back walking with Liam or more likely skating circles around him — in short, he's just never leaving Liam's side. Niall isn't an asshole like Louis or Zayn. He's still pure, but in time Louis knows he'll be corrupted, eventually leading to Liam's own corruption.

It's a minute or so later when Louis notices that he can't hear a set of wheels behind him anymore. He swivels his head around to examine the area and to his surprise, Zayn isn't there. His dark hair and tattooed skin has evaporated somewhere into the clouds. He's probably just turned around to be with the other boys but Louis feels absolutely betrayed nonetheless.

His stormy thoughts have him skimming his foot across the concrete to go even faster. The faces blur past, the smells drifting in and out of his nostrils before he can determine what they are. He thinks he can vaguely hear an Eagles song blasting from a set of speakers nearby. Or maybe it’s something by The Clash. Everything distracts all the same anyways, seeing as how he doesn't even notice the figure coming towards him at a near equal speed to his own.

The collision is quick and more painful than Louis would care to admit. It's a quick slur of shouts and bodies falling over each other and too many wheels scraping across the ground. Louis instantly let's out a long stream of curses, hissing at the burning on his knee that's definitely been scraped up and bruised nicely.

"Dude," a deep voice draws out pitifully from underneath him. Without looking, Louis rolls over on the hot pavement, freeing whoever he's just assaulted at a speed of five miles per hour. "You alright?"

"What do you fucking think?" Louis snaps. He groans and works to carefully pick himself into a sitting position. When his eyes are open, they race to examine this mysterious man.

"Chill, I'm just trying to help," this person who's most definitely not a man says. Far too young and pretty for that label. "You're the one who ran me over and I'm not even complaining."

This guy can stand his ground, which loosens Louis up. That kind of personality instantly attracts him. Of course, nice long legs, sun kissed skin littered with tattoos, long brunette curls and the plushest lips he's ever seen are all things that perk his ears up too.

"You could've moved out of the way," Louis notes defensively. His gaze drops to the roller skates tied onto the boy's feet and can't help but snort. If there's anything more ridiculous than Liam's own kind of posh surfers, it's roller skaters. "You roller skate then, hippie boy?"

It's a harsh stereotype- that all roller skaters are hippies. Louis normally doesn't dive down low enough to put it into play but he can't help it when this boy practically oozes fringed jackets and peace for all. If Louis had caught him at any other time he's certain that the guy would be clad in a tie-dyed shirt and a pair of purple high waisted bell-bottoms like they're truly back in the late sixties.

"Yes, and I may be a hippie but I can still easily return your shit, ratty skater boy," he smiles, devilishly polite. It's refreshing to see Louis' skills in people-reading haven't faded any.

There's still people stepping around them, complaining about how they're blocking the path but it doesn't seem to deter this boy. He just sticks his large hand out for Louis to take, which he does, and mindlessly runs his thumb over the indents in one of the silver rings.

"I'm Harry." 

"Louis," he returns with a smirk. "You know, we don't have a hippie in our clique yet."

And that's how the landslide begins.

-

Harry gets accepted into their group quicker than Louis had anticipated. It's not like they've tried to bring anyone in before now. They've been pretty tight knit since the very beginning, only threatening to kick people out rather than invite them in.

In a matter of weeks, Harry somehow has a way of winning each of them over though, whether it be because of one of his several adventurous stories about fucking someone behind the 'H' on Hollywood Hills and baking tie-dye brownies for the homeless, or because he never smoothes over his opinions on things they ask him about. He's a step behind Niall in the complete carefree lifestyle, but he's damn close enough for all of them to give him a slap on the head and a nod of approval.

Louis takes a particular liking towards him though. While Niall hooks up with girls every odd night and Liam and Zayn have some sort of forbidden, pining love story in the making, Louis is just there. No one appreciates his flirtatious teasing in the way he wants them to or the tan he's persistently working on. It's extremely disappointing.

That's where Harry comes into play, with his playful winks and soft smiles that are only on display for Louis. He joyfully returns every comment Louis throws at him with a swivel of his hips that proves he knows exactly what he's doing.

He's a breath of fresh air in a town that's been living off of stale, recycled oxygen for too long. Him and his long hair that flows when he skates, his boisterous laugh that brightens up any dim room. There's a magnetic force in him that Louis can't deny he's being easily attracted to.

"How do you guys do this shit?" 

The whole lot of them are gathered in or around Liam's pool. Recently there's been a drought in their area of California so everyone's drained out their pools under order of the state for water conservation. Obviously Louis and Zayn quickly hopped on their boards at the sight of the first one, discovering the greatest site for skateboarding that anyone had ever seen.

It was a few days later that Liam supplied them with his own pool in his backyard. He doesn't live in the biggest house on the block, but it's still three times the size of most of the shoddy residences in the city. The pool only expands on that, dug deep into the ground and lined with fresh glossy paint.

Louis and Zayn are the only ones skating in it right now because Niall's knee is acting up due to a recurring injury that's the product of an incident involving a diving board and too many drinks last year, Liam refuses to get on "one of those wheeled boards of death" as if he doesn't swim with the sharks, and Harry just physically is not capable of using a skateboard. It's disappointing the way that only two fifths of them are enjoying this newly found wonder, but Louis can't dwell on the feeling when there's such a rush flowing through his veins each time he kicks his foot.

"Practice, H-boy, practice," Louis yells in the middle of a smooth glide over the pool light. "Fuck yeah, Z, did you see that? Aced that turn! Got it perfect! You saw it didn't ya Harry?"

Zayn flips him off as he follows the move with a rougher finesse than Louis had done it with. To Louis' delight, Harry calls out that yes, he did indeed see the perfection of the trick, and he throws the boy a cheeky wink for the agreement.

"He's got you whipped so bad already, H. Well on your way to becoming his next kitten!" Niall laughs joyfully from one of the pool chairs. 

Harry turns around to face the blonde from where he's sitting on the edge of the pool. "I’m not an animal, thank you very much Niall.”

"Not an animal but still stuck on the end of Lou's leash," Zayn laughs. He dodges Louis' valiant attempt at knocking into him with his shoulder as he rolls by. "Don't worry, Harry boy, we're all a little gone for him. Little shit knows how to get into people's heads."

It's a fair statement. Louis with his overwhelming personality and self proclaimed good looks has them all wrapped around his finger, none of them even knowing how it happened in the first place. It's something Louis truly prides himself in and reminds all the boys whenever they get into a spat over something or question his dominance.

Louis pops out of the pool now, rolling up and over the edge and landing harshly in a mess of limbs and laughter on the hot concrete surrounding the pit. He sets the board aside and crawls over to Harry, laying his head down in the boy's lap and letting his right leg hang leisurely in the pool while the rest of his body spreads across the hard ground.

"Harry's too sweet to be my kitten. I need one that'll hiss and bite back at me, not purr under my touch." At this Harry scoffs offended yet counteracts the action by lazily running his fingers through Louis' hair. 

"So you think I would bite back at ya, considering you've been trying to get with me for over a year now?" Zayn questions with a smirk. 

Louis grins back, canine teeth on display. "Course, Z, you mysterious asshole. Got a tough personality that keeps me on my toes. You're stubborn too— the full package. Never fully gave in to my teasing though, apart from a few supposed _desperate_ times." Then he jerks a thumb behind him and ignores Niall's howl at the casual mention of him and Zayn hooking up. "I know it's on hold for little poshy over there."

"I prefer Liam, bruh," Liam chimes in.

"Ok. Your heart's out for 'Liam Bruh' over there," Louis amends sarcastically, dropping his voice an octave or two and mocking the surfer accent as he says the name. Niall and Harry cackle like hyenas.

"Least I'll admit it," Zayn throws back at Louis. There's a twist to his voice making the statement hit that much harder. It's not fair that Zayn can make such an impact with the use of four simple words.

A wave of Louis' hand dismisses the conversation then. It's too sweltering hot outside to get into serious relationship talk. This pool is meant to be a sanctuary for them and one rule of such a place is that everything that's discussed has to positively affect Louis. Relationships are his weak spot so yes, a strictly banned topic. 

The sun beats down on his exposed skin in the shorts and tank top he's wearing. There's not a feeling he loves more than lounging around with his boys, skating, soaking in harsh rays of light. _His_ boys are the key to his bliss though. For a while, Zayn was all he had and while his company was greatly appreciated, it’s much nicer to be able to walk the Earth knowing that you’ve got three and, now, potentially four people there to hold you up when the ground starts to shake.

“Stop cuddling the hippie and get back in here with me you fox.”

“I’m not a fuckin’ hippie, they died out in the sixties. Being a generally nice person who plays guitar and roller skates does _not_ make you a hippie.”

Some great support pillars Louis's got.

-

Two weeks pass before Harry gets Louis to let him come along to mark another piece of their territory with bright colors and wet paint. Vandalism it's called, but Louis has never been one to care about the legalities of things.

He never thought about it really. It’s always been something between just Zayn and him, occasionally involving Liam or Niall when they get curious or have nothing better to do with themselves. Harry’s always seemed against it though, his harsh glares glazing over Louis at the mention of his idea for a new illegal piece or the next spot they should go to.

Of all people, Harry was literally the last person that he’d expected would want to tag along on the excursion. He’s proven quite wrong, though, one Saturday night while they sit across from each other on the rocky roof of Harry’s apartment, riding off the highs of the joints they finished off some minutes ago.

The air is sticky from the closeness of the home to the salty sea and Harry’s carelessly got his tank top off, tied around his head in a makeshift headscarf. It doesn’t make sense because he’s never minded his hair blowing around before and with that, the temperature has dropped to a comfortably chilly degree, but it’s Harry, so Louis doesn’t pester him about it.

He himself has got jeans on for once. They're covered in tears and patches but still do their job nonetheless. And then, they're accompanied by a tight t-shirt with a pink palm tree on it that he thinks was actually his oldest sister’s at some point, but it fits him nice enough. 

They’re talking complete shit, spewing out anything that pops into their minds. Thoughtless statements about what the world would look like if the sun were purple, careless opinions about political events happening in the country that they really know little to nothing about. It’s nice. It’s entertaining and relaxing and Louis is with Harry, so it’s nice.

“Got a sick idea for a wall design,” Louis says wistfully. “I’ll forget it by the morning though. Can’t remember things when I fall asleep after I get high.”

Harry seems to contemplate something for a moment and Louis makes a point to mock his absolutely _hilarious_ thinking face (only made funny due to the substance burning in his veins). Eventually Harry smiles lazily at him like he’s gotten fucked good or something. Louis frowns when his mind starts delving too far into images of what that would actually look like.

“Let’s go now,” Harry states, nudging his bare foot against Louis’ purple-and-orange Vans clad one.

“Go where?” Louis asks dumbly. He isn’t catching on quickly to what Harry is trying to imply. Lord forgive him for being an idiot when he feels like his limbs are floating somewhere ten feet above his real body.

Harry shrugs. “I don’t know. Center of the city. Somewhere with a blank wall. I never do this shit.”

“Oh,” Louis pips, caught off guard once he deciphers what Harry is saying. “You- you mean spraypaint? Graffiti? _You_?”

Harry starts cackling at Louis’ disbelief which only makes him frown deeper than he already was. “Obviously. Why not, man? You and Z aren’t the only ones who’re allowed to mark your place right under the man’s nose.”

“No, I know I just-” he pauses, trying to get the words slotted into the right places rather than stumbling over a bunch of jumbled syllables. “Thought you hated it. Always whine about how bad it is when I talk about it.”

Harry shrugs. "I'm high. I'm more open to new experiences."

And well. That's enough of a reason for Louis.

It doesn't take long for them to find a spot in the city to work on. There's an old laundromat that sits on the outskirts, it's backside facing towards the dark ocean. The vibe when they get there is unsettling and a bit creepy seeing as it's extremely dark along with being eerily quiet, but they're together so Louis is hanging on the safety in numbers statement, even if the number is only two.

On the way there they stopped by his and Zayn's to pick up the bag of paints. Luckily he wasn't asleep yet, just sitting on his bed drawing in a sketch book under the dim light of an old lamp, so he heard Louis at the first knock on the window. His dark eyes warily scanned who the person outside was and when he saw it was Louis he smiled then when he saw _Harry_ his face nearly split at the sudden extreme force of his smirk.

"Don't let me down," is all Zayn said as he handed over the bag before shutting the window and returning to his previous spot.

Louis laughed because that's the first thing his hazy mind told him to do but deep down he thought about it. He could've been referring to the graffiti job, but then again- 

After a few seconds of hard mind work he decides not to bother decrypting the words because Zayn is Zayn and Louis doesn't get Zayn sometimes.

"Looouuuweeeee," Harry draws out as Louis shakes up the paints. "Little Louis. Why isn’t your name spelt L-O-U-I-E?”

“I don’t know, Harold, why isn’t yours spelt H-A-I-R-Y?” Louis returns as he sprays a small dot on the ground to test the can.

“Fair point,” Harry nods.

He’s leaning against the wall like a model would, ankles crossed, one hand hanging off the back of his neck. The moonlight makes his skin glow and what part of his hair sticks out from underneath the shirt-headband shines just the same. Louis thought he looked good enough in the daytime, but nighttime might take the place for when Harry reaches his full attractiveness potential.

"So I was thinking of doing, like, a fucking-" He pauses to wave his hands around like it could explain what he's trying to say. "I don't know. A bird."

"A bird?" 

"Yes, a bird, H boy."

"Alright," Harry shrugs before standing up straight and grabbing a blue paint can from the ground.

Louis wraps his hand around a black one. He looks at Harry standing with one finger laying but not pressing on the spray part. It's different, weird not seeing Zayn there and completely odd seeing Harry filling his place, but he's just glad he's not alone. 

Somehow in a tangle of limbs and 'accidental' sprays over each other's clothing, moving sloppily to paint the blank space, they get the job done. It takes longer than normal because Harry has little to no idea as to what he's doing. Louis just helps guide him in the right way, spraying at the right angle to get the most vibrant colors up until the last tip of the wing. 

It's a sparrow they've created. It sits frozen on the wall in mid flight, wings awkwardly formed and swirled and decorated with colorful patterns. The paint is dripping in thickly coated spots where Harry claimed he was _"trying to make it pretty, Louis. Just like your face!"_ but it looks amazing nonetheless. 

"I like it," Harry nods from his place beside Louis. His body is slightly tilting to the right but there's no way of telling if it's because of his high or if it's just naturally leaning. Knowing Harry, there's all the chance of the latter.

"Does our city proud," Louis confirms. "I'm hot now."

"I know you are, but what am I?" Harry laughs like the backtrack of a comedy show.

"That's not how the phrase goes you dumbfuck," Louis scoffs.

Harry seems offended by the truth. He raises a hand to his bare chest and gasps, his pupils blown out but still reflecting moonlight. 

"I try to compliment you and this is how you return the favor," he frowns. He bends down to start picking up the spray cans and shoves them into the dirty duffel bag. 

Louis pauses for a moment, not sure of what to say next. He's not sure how serious Harry is being at the moment. Sure, it could be the weed talking, but then again maybe it could be the truth. Or if anything it's the weed talking with the words lightly being dusted _with_ truth.

"Fine you baby— you're hot too. A sexy son of a bitch, a damn blazing California sunny day in the middle of an Arctic winter. Happy now?" 

Harry stands up and faces Louis with a shit-eating grin on his lips and a satisfied glint in his eye. "Extremely."

With that they take a last look at the wall and start walking away. The echoes of the spray cans ring out into the humid air. Their direction is heading through the dark streets towards what seems to be back to Harry's place and though Louis wants to be home to wear off his high with Zayn and a giant bag of Cheetos, he won't decline getting the chance to spend more time with Harry. 

The air is still sticky, leaving Louis' skin feeling dirty and his hair pressed to his forehead. There's never an escape in this place. The only time he gets decent air conditioning is when he's working at the single local skate shop, Zephyr, leisurely leaning against the back wall right beside the AC system itself. He gets told off for it time after time by his boss but what can he do?

Harry's apartment is in the more run down section of the city. It's not exactly the glass-cutting, _'Ghetto by the Sea'_ area, but it's enough to set an uneasy ache in your bones. Louis can admit that he sometimes enjoys exploring these places, but that's usually during the daytime when he's got a set of wheels to get out of there fast if something were to happen. Now all he's got is a leaning, pigeon-toed hippie who's humming _The Addams Family_ theme song quietly beside him.

When they make it up the stairs and into the apartment, the first thing Harry does is kick his sandals across the room. Louis follows suit, only carefully toeing his Vans and nudging them into a spot by the front door, trying to keep some hospitality which is highly unlike him. The room is dimly lit by streaks of moonlight cutting in through the main window and it casts intriguing shadows over the dips and curves of Harry's lean figure. 

"I'm tired," Harry informs Louis. He returns an agreeing nod as he walks across the floor towards Harry. "So fuckin' tired, man."

"I feel you." 

They're standing in the middle of what can barely be labeled a living room. There's one stained, floral couch and a miniature tv with bits of foil stuck around two antennas. It's tastefully cheap, just how Louis wishes he could manage. His and Zayn's tiny house is all ruddy, no glory. Harry's is a nice change in the routine.

"I think the joint's worn off too," Harry supplies solemnly.

As it's said, Louis suddenly realizes that the high has in fact faded almost completely now. It's odd because he's felt a light fluttery feeling in his chest all night which is usually only a result of one drug or another. God help him if it comes to be that the jitters were all just natural reactions to Harry. 

"Can't afford the good long-lasting stuff sadly," Louis supplies solemnly. "Already get it cheaper as is."

"Yeah? And how do you do that?" Harry presses, crossing his arms.

"Me and Z are decent looking fellas," Louis grins sleepily. "It doesn't take much to seduce the dealer. Straight or not, no one can deny us when we combine forces. We're like a fucking superhero league, Harry."

"How much do you think we could get if I tagged along?" Harry's got a teasing edge to his tone. Louis can't decipher whether he's taking the piss or being serious.

Louis answers with two simple words. "A lot."

It seem to be enough for Harry who nods and starts stretching his arms out above his head. Desperately, Louis tries to avoid staring dead straight at Harry's tan torso as it's being put on a gaudy display. This boy is too pretty for his own good, honestly.

"Let's go to bed then," Harry tells him before heading to some room at the end of a very short hallway. Louis trails behind, yawning and scrunching his eyebrows.

"You want to sleep together?" he asks. Harry looks at him blankly. "I mean, I don't care, just want to be sure."

"Yes I'm sure I want to sleep with a delicious boy in my twin bed," Harry laughs even though there's nothing funny about it. 

"Delicious, hm?" Louis responds.

"Absolutely," Harry assures him, a single curl falling down onto his face with the nod of his head.

Harry's room is no more extraordinary than the rest of the apartment. The walls are covered with dozens of Polaroids, the ground littered with clothes and odd skates. Even the bed itself is simply a mattress on the floor with a few wrinkled sheets and thin pillows thrown on top. His open window has a decent view at least, with the ocean and moon barely being visible between the two buildings across the street. 

Louis is a bit worried as to what he's supposed to wear to sleep. Normally he sleeps starkers or with boxers on when he ends up beside Zayn, but now he's not so sure. Harry strips his pants off until he's left in nothing but his own tight briefs though, so Louis figures the dilemma has solved itself as he follows suit. 

"Sorry this place is a mess, man," Harry sighs as he straightens out the sheets. "Don't have visitors too much. At least not ones that care about the room or bed they're being thrown on."

A light clicks in Louis' head telling him that Harry's guests aren't just casual old friends. The thought of a random girl or guy grabbing the sheets that he's about to sleep under makes his skin itch for some reason. He tries his best to ignore it.

"My place is worse than this. Zayn's got all his paints and shit sitting around everywhere then we have all of our skateboard shit too. Lots of shit in an already shitty place."

"Do you not know any adjectives and nouns that don't involve the word _shit_?" 

"Of course not," Louis smiles before climbing into the bed.

It seems a lot smaller when he's laying on it than it did just looking. It's a twin, yes, but he didn't really think about how their sleeping arrangement would work. At the moment, he's rolled to the very edge and already Harry's diagonally sprawled across him, one long, warm leg resting atop Louis' calf.

"You a starfish sleeper then?" Louis asks, pulling one of the sheets over his body and up to his stomach. 

"No," Harry hums happily. He suddenly scoots over while still flat on his stomach and throws his left arm over Louis' chest.

"Thank you, you liar," Louis huffs.

When he turns his head sideways he sees Harry looking back at him, one side of his face pressed into the pillow. His hair is a mess that covers a majority of his eyes, but through the thick strands Louis can see the deep green boring into his blue. Then, a finger is running up his neck, snapping him from his temporary trance instantly. The fingers rubs up and down a few times before making it's way to Louis' actual face. Harry traces the slope of his nose and pokes his cheeks making Louis scrunch his features. 

"Night, Louby Doo," Harry mumbles. He drops his hand and let's in rest just under Louis' collarbone. 

"Louby isn't a very good name," he manages to reply as his eyes fall shut and his voice feels ten miles away from his body.

Finally he falls asleep with a soft cackle replaying in his mind and the scent of saltwater, paint, and strawberries filling his insides.

-

“Fuck, cover yourself up, Harry. I can’t get hard this early in the day.”

“Don’t look then,” Harry smiles at him from across the small room, daylight reflecting off his damp, bare torso. “And it’s almost one. It’s not even early anymore you lazy ass.”

Louis can’t help but stare at the yellow towel slung as low as physically possible on Harry’s hips leaving _very_ little to the imagination. His mind is still foggy from sleep, but it won’t affect how easily it takes for him to get turned on. His tolerance for good looking guys is little to none.

“Y’could’ve woken me up, dick,” Louis groans, only forcing himself to tear his eyes from Harry when he gives Louis a warning that the towel is being fully dropped. “Oh shit, I’ve got work today. Nick’s gonna slit my throat.”

“Sorry. Where do you work and who’s Nick?” Harry questions.

“That skate shop, Zephyr, down near the old pier, and Nick’s my boss. He’s a douche with preppy short hair like Liam and a stick permanently shoved up his ass.” Louis doesn’t get on with many people in the city. It’s small enough that everyone knows everyone and feuds and more common than friendships. It just happens that sometimes when you’re desperate enough for a decent job you force yourself to put up with the pricks marked down on your blacklist. At least Louis does.

Once Harry is dressed in bright yellow shorts and an oversized, loose white top with a mysterious bleach spot on the front, he comes and sits on the bed. He shoves Louis’ feet over and perches right on the edge of the bed, looking at Louis with a confused expression.

“You said Zephyr, yeah?”

“Are you deaf? Have short term memory loss?”

“No, I just think I know your boss,” Harry tells him, rolling his eyes. Louis sits up a little further and stares at him, awaiting for a further explanation. “Stop looking at me like that— I’m thinking. I mean, I know this guy named Grimmy right? He always tries to hit on me when I skate down the boardwalk and stop at that one ice cream cart, because I think his friend works at it or something. He's literally there _every_ single time. But anyways, I’m almost certain he told me once that he’s the manager at Zephyr.”

Louis scoffs. “Not even close to being a real _manager_ , but yeah, probably him. He would choose a nickname that sounds like the name of a cheap hooker." He pauses for a second and turns over what Harry said. “You never actually hooked up with him did you?”

“No,” Harry says. He looks appalled by the idea of it which lights a small spark of possessive fire in Louis’ chest.

“Good,” he smiles.

With a lot of motivation on Harry’s part and a valiant effort on Louis’, he gets out of bed and dressed. Since his pants from the previous day aren’t too dirty, he just slides those back on along with his Vans, but as for his paint stained shirt, he’s forced to borrow one of Harry’s. The smallest one he can find in the large array of items is a neon pink top that has _I <3 LA _written on the front. He reasons that pink has always been a generous color on him. It brings out his eyes and compliments his tan.

He meets Harry in the living room for a luxurious breakfast of strawberry Crazy Cow cereal. It makes the milk turn pink and strawberry flavored when you finish with the actual bits and pieces which Louis loves. He teases Harry about his slacking cereal cupboard all the while he sips down a bowlful of colorful milk, a light pink line coating the top of his lip.

"Look, you're Pink Floud now. Get it? 'Cus of the milk stache and your name, Lou." Harry grins at him from the other side of the couch and Louis extends a leg to kick him in the thigh for such a terrible joke.

"That was horrendous. The next time you skate I hope you bust your ass," Louis scolds.

"Oh, you mean you hope I run into some fox on a skateboard who's not looking where the hell he's going?" 

Louis kicks him again harder for that but in a teasing way with a smile on his face. "No. The only fox you're allowed to run into like that is me."

"Not even Zayn?" Harry presses, scooping a hearty spoonful of Cap'n Crunch into his mouth.

“Zayn’s a dick and Liam would kill you anyways,” Louis waves off.

“True,” Harry agrees. “So I’ll have to stick with you then?”

“You best believe it!” Louis flashes a smile and sips down the last of the remaining milk. 

He looks over at the smiley face analog clock on the wall, noting that he needs to leave now to make his shift in time. It’s sad having to leave Harry after spending such a long amount of time with him. Up until last night, he and Harry had only really hung out twice and each time were for a few hours out in public. Being alone with Harry and sleeping in the same bed as him, waking up in the presence of his natural radiance has Louis’ mind in a flurry.

“Hey, I need to go now,” Louis tells Harry as he stands up to go put his bowl in the sink.

“Don’t leave me,” Harry calls out. He twists his head around to peer over the back of the couch and frowns at Louis who looks back with an indifferent face.

“You act like I actually want to,” Louis scoffs. “If I could, I would sit on the couch and watch The Brady Bunch reruns with you all day long even though I fucking hate that show. Being with you is nice — really nice. But I have to get money somehow. I’m not talented like Zayn or rich like Liam and I probably can’t do whatever the hell you do.”

“I work at a car wash,” Harry supplies.

“You _would_ ,” Louis teases. “Anything to strip off and show off your nice body.”

Harry hums and stands up himself, walking towards Louis with his bowl of cereal balanced in one hand. “Sounds a lot like you, doesn’t it?”

“Don’t play these games with me Styles. I already know I’m a cocky son of a bitch, no need to remind me.” He grins but is remotely aware that Harry is very close to him, close enough that Louis almost has to look up to meet his eyes. It’s intimidating yet oddly satisfying.

“Well, at least you have a _right_ to be cocky,” Harry smiles innocently before ducking his head down and pressing wet lips right to Louis’ cheek. He feels the breath get knocked out of his stomach. It’s unlike one of the other boys or a faceless stranger at night, it’s sweet and nice and _Harry_. Just a simple peck on the cheek that manages to hold more meaning than a prayer. “Have fun at work!”

Louis stares at him in disbelief. There’s a smug grin on Harry’s face that contradicts the pink blush to his cheeks. Surely Louis’s got a bit of a tint too after such a swift move, but. Details.

“Fuck you,” Louis breathes out.

“Do you say that to all the guys?” Harry asks sarcastically.

“No, only the ones who truly deserve it," he retorts, all in false seriousness. "What kind of guy kisses another guy's cheek for a goodbye?"

Harry starts to say his own name but before he can get all of the syllables out, Louis is standing on his toes and smacking his own lips right at the height of Harry's cheekbone. The skin's soft where it brushes underneath his mouth and nose. 

" _Me_ ," Louis says simply. With a devilish grin, a panicked storm in his head, and an ignition in his heart, he walks straight out the front door, leaving a shocked Harry behind.

He can just barely hold in his laugh when a distant _"Fuck!"_ follows him down the crowded steps.

-

In a desperate attempt at sorting his head out, Louis goes to find Zayn straight after his shift is over. It's going on four and the sun's still hanging midway in the sky by the time he gets to the boardwalk where Zayn's sitting, pencil in hand, staring at some pretty blonde girl giggling on a stool a few feet away.

"She's gonna want you to put some lipstick on and kiss the portrait when you're done," he says as a greeting, placing one hand on Zayn's bare shoulder. He doesn't even flinch under the sudden touch.

"That costs extra," Zayn replies, turning his head around to grin up at Louis. 

The girl on the stool seems to be watching them curiously while still trying to hold a straight face for the drawing. Louis decides to have some fun while he waits for Zayn to finish with his job and drags over a chair from the burger joint a few yards over. He sits down, legs spread wide, and leans against Zayn's side, resting his head in the crevice between his neck and shoulder. This gets more of a reaction from the blonde.

"What are you doing you dick," Zayn mutters under his breath just loud enough for Louis to hear.

"Saving your ass," he replies sweetly. "I've gotta talk to you when you finish this piece by the way, but I'll make myself comfortable in the meantime."

Zayn's skin is warm from the blazing heat and it provides a soothing pillow for Louis. It doesn't even seem to bother Zayn too much that Louis is leaning against him, seeing as how he swiftly continues on drawing even with the slightly lost mobility of his left arm. 

There's not much of a conversation going now, at least that's directed towards Louis, so he gazes out over to the sea. It's just barely visible behind the vast field of sand separating the boardwalk from the shoreline. From what he can see though, it looks nice, the very beginning colors of an orange sunset reflecting off the water in the distance. He always forgets to appreciate the natural reasons why he sometimes enjoys living here.

Distantly he thinks that this might be near the spot where he originally met Harry. The memory is a bit blurry considering it was an unexpected connection, but yeah. This could've been where it happened. He's sure he can recall the smell of greasy burgers when his knee slammed against the concrete.

Everything in his mind is Harry, he suddenly realizes. Even when he's literally cuddled against Zayn and gazing out at the sunset, his thoughts are still taken up by this radiant force of a boy. No matter how hard Louis tries he just can't shake the crooked smile or butterfly tattoo from his mind. 

It's scary. Because this kind of thing rarely happens to him and _never_ so quickly. Everyone he's with he simply has a short-term infatuation with whether it's for their looks or their PacMan skills or the way that they sing terrible songs on a ukulele. There have been so many odd people he's labeled as his kitten and slept with for a few weeks, but never has this feeling of total loss of control taken over him due to someone before. 

The thing is, he's valued himself in not being someone like that. Normally he scoffs at couples and makes jokes about them. He never realized that maybe, deep, _deep_ down he's actually _jealous_ of people who have someone to call their lover in a true sense of the word. Because Louis has had 'lovers' enough but not one that he can remember the name of a week later. So yes, jealousy is a debatable answer to his actions.

After a few more minutes of waiting for Zayn, he chances a look and finds that he's still only got half of the face shaded and no hair. He groans pitifully and stares at the girl who is still valiantly batting her lashes at Zayn and oh-so subtly sticking her breasts out for him. 

In a sudden thought to ruin her demeanor again, Louis gets a great idea. Genius he could say. In one swift movement he turns and licks a long strips up Zayn's neck, feeling Zayn's shoulder scrunch underneath him in shock.

"Louis, what are you doing man," Zayn asks hopelessly, not further bothered by Louis moving on to suck at the bottom of his jaw.

"Entertaining myself," he smiles once a nice hickey starts to form right where his mouth just was.

Looking back to the girl Louis finds himself being shot a razor sharp glare. He doesn't get why she's angry with him when she's the one who still hasn't gotten the message that Zayn isn't interested in her or any of her female wonders.

"Sorry about him, he gets needy sometimes," Zayn says to his model, eyes flitting to meet hers for a second before they're back on the paper. It's a neutral statement but still odd considering he rarely talks to whom he has to draw whilst he's drawing them.

"Ah," the girl smiles fake and wide. Louis can't contain his silent cackling.

Finally about ten minutes later, the piece is finished. The girl writes her name on the ten dollar bill and hands it to Zayn with a sweet grin, apparently still completely oblivious to what Louis was trying to imply. Zayn wouldn't like her anyways then. He goes for people who at least have common sense.

"Alright, so do you wanna walk down by the shore or would you prefer a nice talk at Beachfront Burgers?" Zayn asks as he cleans up all of his supplies.

"Normally I would be a for the beach but I've got jeans on today and I don't feel like being that one guy who rolls his pants up to his knees. I have self respect," Louis tells him. "And I don't wanna get sand in my Vans. That's the worst feeling in the world, Z."

"Yeah, yeah, I know." Zayn waves him off and grabs his easel. "Can you grab my supplies?"

Louis nods and picks up the utensils from the ground, following behind Zayn who's also carrying the sign for his stand. They move all of the things to the back room of a bike rental shop where the owners were nice enough to give Zayn space one day so he didn't have to drag all of his belonging home with him. They say a quick hello to them as they make their way back outside and then head next door for a bit of quality food.

Zayn goes to the window and orders two classic cheeseburger meals for them and a soda to share, paying for it with the bill that has the girl's name on it. Louis stares in amusement and laughs when Zayn just smiles over at him. Their small talk and banter fills the air as they wait for their food to come out. When it's handed over to them, Zayn says a quick thank you and leads them to a metal table covered with peeling red paint.

"So," Zayn starts when they're settled into their right seats across from each other, "what did you need to talk about?"

"Well, I don't really know exactly," Louis says honestly, popping a fry into his mouth to ease his building stress.

"How do you not know?" Zayn deadpans with a questioning look.

"I mean, it's about Harry, I just don't really know what to say I guess." Suddenly Louis' mind is drawing blank, all of his thoughts backing away into dark corners when he reaches out to use them. 

Zayn being the asshole that he is _smirks_ at Louis and Louis is tempted to kick him underneath the table. "Everyone already knows you like him."

"Yeah, I fucking know that but-"

"But you _really_ like him. You're properly into him, like you would want to date him and be more than a short hookup." Zayn says it as if he's the one in Louis' spot. How he's so good at figuring things out so quickly when it's other people's relationships but still can't get it together with Liam is a true mystery.

"Yes," Louis confirms.

"What's the problem then? Just tell him," Zayn shrugs as he takes a bite of his burger.

"I'm _panicking_ though, Z," Louis admits exasperatedly." He fucking kissed my cheek earlier and I did it back and what the hell is that? I never do that to anyone unless I'm just trying to be a dick. Everything I do with Harry feels like something more and I know it's because I like him but I don't know how to act on that. I don't know _how_ to start a real relationship without fucking it up like I did last time."

That's the thing: there is a last time. 

About a year ago Louis was with a guy named Aiden. They met at a wild party and drunkenly hooked up and before Louis knew it, they were hooking up just about every day. It was a quick, glorious thing that just sort of happened when they decided that they both liked each other well enough and liked fucking each other even more.

Over time, they started hanging out outside from under the sheets. It was nice being with someone he could kiss when he wanted and fuck when he was horny and it was enough to keep him tied up for a good half of the summer. Louis even introduced him to his group friends who were all overjoyed to see Louis have someone, even when Liam and Niall were still newcomers. They easily accepted him into their group just as they did to Harry now, seeing as they all got along with Aiden well enough and refused to put up with Louis moping when he wasn't around. 

Sometime a few weeks later, though, when Louis had decided to fully stop flirting with anyone else and just focus on his relationship with Aiden, he got quite a shock to say the least. Aiden had invited him to come over one night and obviously Louis took that as code for a nice night of pleasure and wrinkled sheets. So he made his way over with lungs full of excitement and let himself in with no problem when Aiden didn't answer the door at first knock. 

All at once he heard laughing and giggling coming from the bedroom he knew all too well. He knew that it was girl giggling of course, and Aiden's laugh was unmistakable. With an already tightening chest he pushed open the door and saw exactly what he expected to see playing out on the bed that he's been pressed into so many times before.

"Louis, you made it!" Aiden smiled, white teeth teasing Louis unlike every time before. The half stripped girl straddling him turned around and eyed him down with no shame which Louis found particularly confusing. "This is my girlfriend, Beth, and Beth, this is that guy I told you about."

Louis' brain short circuited at the word girlfriend but was alive enough to hear the offer for a threesome. It was sort of like the world he knew was falling apart, crumbling beneath his place in the doorway. 

He was disgusted and yelled at Aiden of course, explained how he thought they had something real the whole time. Aiden laughed right in his face and clarified that they were just fuck-buddies and said how Louis should've known that. He should've is the thing. He let himself fall too quick for someone who more than likely didn't even know his last name.

It was Zayn he cried to after he ran home, Zayn who he told that he wasn't going to get in a relationship ever again. He yelled and made a fool of himself and to this day he still winces and feels embarrassed just thinking about how upset he was.

"Listen, last time doesn't mean anything. That fucker lead you on without a doubt. Hell, even Niall, Liam and I thought you were fools in love with each other," Zayn grimaces and pushes his hair back with one hand. "I know you refuse to believe me, but what he did was slimy and fucking horrible and it wasn't your fault at all. Honestly, how were you supposed to know he was just spinning you around that whole time before using you as a sex object with his girlfriend?"

"I don't know," Louis answers even though he's sure it was a rhetorical question. "I just feel like I should've caught on. I shouldn't have gotten ahead of myself, you know? And this thing with Harry feels the same. It makes me nervous and I don't like it."

"'Course, because you don't like your power being threatened," Zayn laughs and Louis does kick him this time. 

"I'm serious," he pouts. 

"You're also overreacting."

Louis raises his brows in an attempt at intimidation even though Zayn would never be scared of him. "And how's that?"

“You're crying to me about liking Harry as if he's already shot you down. It's clear he's interested, man. Even a blind man could see it," Zayn shrugs. Louis is staring at him inquisitively, waiting for more. "I'm just saying that you shouldn't worry, you should just talk to him. Be upfront about it and if you want I could back you up, tell him not to fuck with your heart or he'll be sleeping on the ocean floor."

Louis can't help but laugh. He knows Zayn is right, and as much as he hates being proven wrong and made a mockery of, he's thankful that Zayn at least has the courtesy to do it in a caring way. Calling Louis out for his bullshit then reminding him that he'll always be there. Unorthodox, but reassuring.

"Tomorrow," Louis nods surely, squinting as the sun lowers and comes at his eyes in harsh blasts. 

"Tomorrow?" Zayn questions, apparently lost on Louis' attempt at creating a suave ending to the conversation. 

"Dammit Zayn, you ruined the vibe. I meant I'll talk to Harry tomorrow," Louis sighs, flicking a few stray hairs from his face. _Maybe,_ he thinks but doesn't add to the end of the sentence.

-

Tomorrow turns into a week later without any warning. Louis was wary after the conversation with Zayn, then got so high that night he felt he could scream his feelings from the top of a building, then dramatically fell back down into a pit of anxiety. By the time 'tomorrow' had turned into 'today', his drive was lost. 

All of the boys are here now. They've decided to meet up at some empty parking lot with a chain-link fence surrounding it. It's not as private or entertaining as Liam's house, but since the gardeners are messing around his backyard, this lesser alternative became their best option.

In a miraculous chain of events, Louis has still got a tank top on and Harry is the one with the least amount of clothes on. He's wearing those damned red shorts that fit his backside spectacularly along with a flowing, see-through shirt pulled straight from his large assortment of them. It takes an abundance of self control for Louis not to push him to the ground and taste every inch of his skin. 

"Haarryyy," he sings as he swivels by, running a hand over the boy's unruly locks as he passes.

" _What_ do you want?" Harry asks with fake annoyance.

"I want to see you doing something instead of just sitting there like an overheated dog," Louis whines. He circles around once more before coming to a skidding stop in front of Harry and meeting his eyes.

"What about my position makes you think 'dog'?" Harry asks, sounding genuinely insulted now. In all fairness he is just sitting on a cement bar with his arms resting on his knees.

"Your hair I think," Louis says slowly, cocking his head and examining Harry below him. "It's all frizzy from the humidity and it makes me think ' _Cocker Spaniel'_."

"Hey, do I take offense to Louis saying I look like a Cocker Spaniel?" Harry yells loudly so that Niall and Zayn, who are skating in figure eights and trying to push each other off their boards, can hear him.

"Nah, he's just fucking around. You do look like one though if that helps," Niall calls back, narrowly ducking away from Zayn's thin arm trying to swat at him.

"You do," Liam nods beside him and Harry scoffs and pulls an outraged face.

"You little skeeters and your bloody young humor," he growls in a surprisingly good English accent. Overdone a bit, but still. Props to him.

Several minutes and a good exchange of banter later, Louis finds himself in an interesting situation. Harry is already taller than he is — if only by an inch or two — so standing on Louis' board only heightens the problem. Literally.

The odd part of this though isn't their height, it's that Louis has two hands firmly grasping each of Harry's hips while Harry is practically leaning his full weight onto Louis' shoulder. It's a nice, suggestive, yet slightly uncomfortable position. And since two of the three adjectives are positive, Louis can't find reason to complain.

"Look, if you want to skate you're gonna have to let go of me and I'm gonna have to let go of your hips," Louis instructs.

From a few feet away the other boys have made themselves at home on the hot pavement. They're elbowing each other and whispering things that Louis can't hear, obviously thoroughly enjoying watching this scene unfold before them.

"I'm going to bust my head open!" Harry's lost the cocky confidence he had originally when he agreed to letting Louis teach him to board.

"Don't worry. Liam's rich, he can pay for your hospital bills. Or your funeral. Whichever you'd prefer I guess." The look Harry gives him could melt an iceberg. "Oh don't be a bitch about it."

"I will if I want to," Harry says indignantly. Then, he lifts his weight off of Louis and stands up on the board, one foot ready to kick him forward.

"Ready then?" 

"Ready," Harry confirms. It sounds like he's getting ready to be shipped off to war rather than glide across the ground.

So Louis let’s go of him and gently nudges him forward, Harry catching on and kicking off for real. For a second he seems to have it but then as soon as he has both feet planted he loses his balance, quickly hopping off. He wasn’t even going fast and Louis and the other boys all have a fit of laughter about it.

“How can you roller skate but not skateboard? How does that even work?” Louis calls out to him through a cackle. He ignores the fond fluttering in his stomach.

"I'm a complex man," Harry defends with a sly grin.

"Yeah, Louis, a complex man!" Someone calls out. At this point Louis doesn't care about the differences between any of them; they're all dicks.

"Alright," Louis nods. "Okay."

So they keep trying to get Harry to skate, ending up with a few too many trips and falls and questionably intimate positions. One time, Harry goes too fast and runs straight into Louis, knocking them both to the floor with him kneeling above Louis, practically straddling him. The pain in Louis' back neutralizes the heat trying to travel down to where Harry is hovering above his waist.

"Nice weather, huh," Harry hums smartly like his face isn't inches above Louis', like his thighs aren't trapping Louis on the pavement.

"A bit humid I'd say. A bit hot with you making yourself comfortable on top of me."

“I’m reenacting how we first met,” Harry smiles. “Or I guess this could be revenge considering you fell on _me_ last time. I did scrape my knee now though, so I don’t know who the fuck is getting revenge on who.”

Louis is lost. “I’m lost.”

“You're always lost when you're not in the lead. That's a reason why I love you probably.”

The sarcastic remark Louis had dripping on the tip of his tongue runs dry when the last part of Harry's sentence sinks in. Here they were, having a nice, friendly bonding time and now Harry is admitting his feelings before Louis can gain the courage to do it himself. It's extremely inconsiderate. But Louis still puts cool against his nerve ends that are being set aflame.

"Big words for someone from such a small neighborhood," Louis states, sounding more comical than deep.

"Technically I'm from Santa Monica which is a decent sized city, but I understand how grand the words can seem to an alley bum like you," Harry grins. 

Then Harry is leaning down and kissing him, hot lips meeting Louis and sending sparks like never before throughout his body. He's pretty certain that Harry's knee is burning where it slammed on the concrete and his own elbow hurts badly, but he won't point those details out for the sake of the moment. How Harry manages to move his lips so tenderly even when the pain is still astounding.

It's odd when Louis starts really kissing back. Normally his eyes blink open and there's no emotion behind the simple pleasure of being kissed. Now though, with Harry, he can tell it's something more. Something that maybe is actually too big for someone who can barely fit a bed in their bedroom. 

Distantly Louis hears select yells being thrown out. _'Get it Tommo!'_ , _'Is H Boy bleeding? He is!'_ , and _'I looked away to tie my shoe and you shits are already humping each other!'_ are the ones that stick out the most. 

With the sun beating down and the wind tossing his bangs, Louis figures this is as good of a moment as he would have ever gotten. He was waiting for the right time to tell Harry he likes him, then was planning out a nice date to get things started. All he wanted to do was take things slow and use precaution. Evidently a slow pace is not at all what Harry's got in mind for them seeing as he's blurted out the L Word before Louis even figured out he feels the same.

Harry's hovering above him when their lips separate, his skin glistening with sweat. Louis won't place any bets on whether it's due to the Californian heat or their near make out session (although he's certain it's because of him). He squints up at Harry then watches amusedly as he stands up, hissing and wincing and poking at his scraped up knee.

"Maannn," Harry drawls out pitifully, staring down at his leg. "The moment felt right but now I think I regret it."

Louis gasps and stands up to match Harry's stance. "You _regret_ falling in love with me?" The weight of the words feel odd on his tongue even when they're being used sarcastically. They don't seem quite as monumental and scary as Louis imagined. Being in love always seemed like it would take a while and could change a relationship forever, but really, it's just a simple fact. A statement of the truth that, when he thinks about it, can be said between nearly anyone.

What the hell is he afraid of?

"I had no choice but to fall for you, you gorgeous asshat," Harry growls. His gaze moves up to something above Louis' shoulder now.

"Why're you callin' him an asshat! Weren't your dicks just pressed together?" 

Louis glares at Niall. "They weren't actually, but thanks for your concern.”

Niall flips him off and laughs. Zayn and Liam are standing beside him, mumbling and whispering things to each other, casting unsubtle glances and nods at Harry and Louis. Louis feels like he’s on display now in some art museum with people questioning everything about him. It’s wonderful.

“So what happened here then?” Liam inquires, waggling his eyebrows ridiculously. 

_Nothing_ is the first word that Louis wants to blurt out, but Harry beats him in the chase. 

“I proclaimed my love for him,” he smiles as if he’s a genius for using a word of medium intelligence. Then, he wraps a sweaty arm around Louis and pulls him into his side. If it were anyone else Louis would’ve slapped them and spit on them for rubbing their disgusting sweat on him, but since it’s Harry he’ll happily take his place in the warm alcove. 

“Oh?” Zayn raises his brows now and throws a confused or shocked expression to Louis- it’s hard to tell the difference. Either way, Louis knows that it means _what the fuck? I thought you were going to tell him you liked him not start saying you love each other already who the hell are you Louis talk to me_.

“Yeah,” Louis confirms with a wolfish smile. 

“So Tommo’s settling down then! Tell the papers! Get some big shot Hollywood producers out here so we can film a movie about the fucking apocalypse!” Niall howls. It’s all in good fun of course. It _is_ shocking to see Louis somewhat settle down considering the path he’s been on for the past year. Hooking up with random guys at block parties, sucking tequila out of tan collarbones, showing up at the pier covered with lovebites and lugging a hangover more often than not.

“You know, it’s not that big of a deal really. Everyone makes it seem like saying you love someone like, changes everything but it’s bullshit,” Louis waves off, curling his lip as he says it. “I love all of you boys even though you’re annoying burnouts. I can say it without it changing our relationship, you know?”

Zayn nods like he understands and Liam looks like he might be faking his reassuring, slow nod, but Niall seems completely bewildered. There’s a reason Louis always liked Niall and this is why. He’s just as obnoxious as Louis is himself in every single situation.

“Harry you’ve corrupted him already!” He says, leaving his jaw slack. “He sounds _smart_.”

“Yeah, yeah, fuck off,” Louis bites rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, back off my fox,” Harry tells him and Louis feels the arm holding him wrap tighter. If Harry doesn’t let go soon, Louis’s gonna get a really fucked up tan line. The bright sun shows no mercy.

“So I’m your fox and you’re my kitten?” Louis asks. He tries to tilt his head to look at Harry but the angle is awkward and the light shines straight in his eyes so he settles with smirking at Zayn. 

“Mhm,” Harry hums, bobbing his head happily up and down causing his long hair to brush against Louis’ face. 

Various noises of disgust are thrown at them like ammunition. In response, Harry grabs Louis’ head and forces him to turn and tilt it up. Then he presses his full lips against Louis’ again, except this time there’s light biting on his bottom lip and just the slightest bit of tongue involved. It’s difficult to make out when they’re both desperately trying not to laugh or smile, but kissing Harry overall couldn’t be simpler. For once Louis feels like this is how it’s supposed to be and he thanks his lucky stars that Harry was the one who had the courage to get it to happen.

-

“Are you sure we’re going the right way, Harry?” 

“Yes so stop whining. We’re almost there.”

It seems like they’ve been walking dirt trails for hours. Which, maybe they have; Louis doesn’t own a watch. The only way he’s keeping track of time is by mentally noting how far the sun has set behind the horizon of downtown Los Angeles, how pink the sky looks compared to the orange tint a few minutes back. 

Supposedly Harry is taking them to visit the Hollywood sign. Louis says supposedly because Harry originally said it’d take no longer than twenty minutes to get to it when they first parked the car at the bottom of the hills at least forty minutes ago. Walking isn’t his forte, not in the slightest. Skating, yes, he can do and have the willpower to continue for hours on end. Only using his legs to pad slowly across the ground though is something completely different that Louis just can’t get himself to bother enjoying. 

Carefully, Louis follows Harry’s lead and hops over a deep pothole in the path that’s now turned into a regular road. His cheap hiking boots are starting to kill his feet even with the horrid socks he has pulled halfway up his calves. His torn up Vans probably would’ve done fine for the trek since Louis’ feet are already used to those. But _no_ , Harry _insisted_ he buy boots because they protect feet better and have greater traction, as if Louis cares about those details. At this point, he would happily crawl the rest of the way just to relieve the pressure in the shoes.

“Hey sweetcheeks,” Louis calls out.

“Hello,” Harry responds with a wave without even turning around. Louis frowns.

“I wasn’t saying hi, I need your attention,” he clarifies with an indignant tone.   

Now Harry stops and turns around, a full few meters ahead. Louis glares at his pretty smirk until they’re side by side once again. “What do you need then?”

“Face that way,” Louis directs, pointing ahead. Harry gives him a questioning look but obliges all the same. “Alright now stand still,” Louis orders before placing his hands on Harry’s shoulders and hopping up onto the taller boy’s back. Harry almost falls over but manages to catch himself, holding onto Louis’ calfs like second instinct.

“You’re such a little shit,” Harry groans as he resituates a smug Louis on his back and grips the undersides of his thighs. “A giant fucking baby,” he adds on, starting to walk again.

Louis leans forward and nips at the sharp point of Harry’s jaw line just under his ear. “I know. It’s why you love me, right? Isn’t that what you said two weeks back?”

“Sure,” Harry huffs. Now _he_ sounds like the baby, but Louis keeps his mouth closed in fear of losing his free ride.

Harry’s hair is pulled up in a bun so Louis busies himself with gazing at the sunset and twirling the baby hairs at the base of Harry’s neck that aren’t trapped under his heavy camera strap. Every now and then Harry pinches his ass and Louis kicks him, wishing but never landing a direct hit in his crowned jewels. Honestly, Louis doesn’t even know if he has any. That could cause a problem when Louis tries to recreate his sexual fantasies.

“Do you think we’ll run into David Bowie up here?” Louis questions thoughtfully.

“Probably,” Harry nods. “Since when do you even like him?”

Louis shrugs even though Harry can’t see him. “I dunno. I like that one song about the rocket ship.”

“You mean Space Oddity?” Harry laughs.

“Is it the one about the rocket ship?”

“Well I mean, it’s not really about a _rocket ship_ but-”

“H-boy, don’t get technical with me. It’s too hot and I’m tired,” Louis complains, laying his chin down on Harry’s shoulder.

“ _Baby_ ,” Harry mumbles earning him a kick that finally lands in the place Louis’ been trying for the whole time.

It takes a minute or two for Harry to drop Louis and sort out the injury on his groin. Louis wishes he were the one with the Polaroid camera just so he could capture the look on Harry’s face as he laughed while hissing in pain. Once he gets settled again, Louis tries to hop back on his back but is instantly denied access. He takes the punishment bravely after a quick whine and desperate apology.

Finally, finally, _finally_ they get to the sign. Miraculously, Louis is still in one piece, covered in blisters and sweat but still alive. Harry takes it upon himself to snap a photo of Louis as soon as they reach the gate. It’s a shot of Louis with his face pressed against the metal, eyes shut and hair falling onto his face. He looks a proper mess but Harry claims that it’s a beautiful photo and there’s no way he’s getting rid of it. 

“Didn’t you fuck someone behind the H?” Louis asks, recalling the week when he and Harry first met. It wasn’t a lengthy story, but a unique one nonetheless.

“Welllll,” Harry draws out. “No. Not really. The closest I got was making out with a guy behind it but never got stripped down.”

Louis puts on a shocked expression. “So you lied to me? How dare you, Harry, I should break up with you right now.”

“If you did that then you’d have no one to carry you back down to the car,” Harry notes.

“You have a good point.”

“Yeah.”

There’s a blissful moment of silence after that. All around them the air is slowly cooling, the wind soothing their hot skin. Louis notices now that there isn’t much to this site other than the view. It’s a good view of course, the Pacific visible in the distance and the city slowly coming to life before their eyes, but Louis is bored. He’s a thrill seeker while Harry is more of a guy who appreciated things for their natural beauty. It’s hard to satisfy both personalities.

“Let’s go down there then,” Louis says, breaking the quiet. 

“We might get arrested you know. They’ve probably upped their security since I came here last,” Harry warns him while leaning back with his hands wrapped around the wire to hold him up.

“I can fight off a fucking cop, Harry. Who do you think I am?” Louis scoffs. Harry shrugs. “Get us in there, c’mon now, we’ve got no time to waste.”

So Harry shows him off the path and down into the rocky slope that the letters stand upon. There are sharp bushes that threaten to attack them and suddenly Louis is thankful for his deadly boots.

A little ways down where the gate meets at a corner, there’s a slit barely noticeable to the blind eye. Harry nudges it forward and cautiously steps through, barely managing to avoid being scraped by the sharp edged of the cut metal. Louis does the same and once they’re both inside of the little cage they start walking back up towards where the sign actually is.

“Let’s go behind the L for me,” Louis grins before sprinting the rest of the way towards the large white letter protruding from the ground. 

Harry takes a slower pace and Louis catches him frowning when he arrives. “Why not the H?” 

“Because you said you hooked up with a guy over there and I don’t want to refurbish an old memory. I want to make a new one,” he says slyly. Louis swiftly reaches out and grabs the camera from Harry’s hands to set down on the dirt. Then, he grabs Harry by his shoulders and tugs him forward before backing him against the tall part of the L. “How would you feel about maybe getting sucked off right now?”

“Well, I mean, if you’re offering I guess that’d be okay,” Harry laughs darkly, eyes gleaming when Louis smiles back at him. 

The sun’s near it’s lowest point in the sky which is scary on one hand but mood-setting on the other. There’s only two orange lights glowing at the top of the main part of the chain link fence and the glows from them just barely reach where they’re standing. 

“Shut up and kiss me, bitch,” Louis laughs one more time before their lips collide in a flurry of anxiety and passion. 

Louis instantly licks Harry’s plump bottom lip, a way of silently asking for the boy to open his mouth. Access is instantly granted luckily and Louis moans in delight. Their tongues rub together in what would be considered sloppy by an outsider but it’s so nice, feels so wonderful. Without realizing it, Louis’s already starting to get hard. Apparently just the thought of sucking Harry’s cock for the first time in a place where they could easily be caught is enough to set him off.

The kiss quickly heats up at a pace they’ve never gone before. Louis presses his hips into Harry’s and grips the back of his neck, licking into Harry’s mouth selfishly and Harry lets him. The only time they separate is when Louis licks across Harry’s jaw to the point he nipped at before. There’s already a light red mark from that and Louis latches on, sucking and biting to form a perfect love bite as Harry groans in delight under his touch.

“Fuck, my knees are gonna burn later,” Louis grits out when he gives Harry one last peck and drops to the ground. 

“It’s worth it to- to make me happy,” Harry tells him, getting cut off in the middle of the statement by his own whine when Louis presses a hand against his bulge.

Louis makes quick work of unzipping the jean shorts and tugging them down. He traces Harry’s cock teasingly through the fabric of his boxers. “Are you getting _cock_ -y?”

“No,” Harry says. His hips are moving forward, searching for friction that Louis’ hand isn’t giving him enough of. “God, would you just get your mouth on me already you fucking tease.”

For that, Louis deliberately wraps his mouth around the clothed dick. He breathes hotly upon it and - against the terrible taste and feeling - licks slowly along the fabric just to make sure Harry is set on the absolute edge. Harry’s low moan paired with the hand that suddenly tangles in Louis’ hair is enough motivation to finally pull Harry’s boxers down.

As soon as those are out of the way, Louis wastes no time in wrapping his lips around the head of Harry’s cock. One hand grips the back of Harry’s thigh while the other circles around Harry’s base, slowly, slowly moving up and down to get him to full hardness. His tongue works languidly at the tip, focusing on balancing the amount of teasing and real pleasure he gives out.

“Fucking hell, Lou,” Harry gasps when Louis quickly takes him down in full. His hand pressed Louis’ head harder, leaving Louis nearly choking but not hurting him at all.

You see, Louis takes pride in his ability to give blow jobs. Normally he wouldn’t even let a guy so much as tug at his hair, but Harry is different. He always is. Naturally Louis allows him to do things that no one else gets the chance to, including guiding where he has his head on Harry’s cock and how quickly he bobs it. It’s as much power as he’s willing to hand over to anyone and he’s glad Harry is using it well.

Louis picks up the speed eventually, tracing the vein on the underside of the thick cock gently. Harry’s moans and silent curses pleasantly fill the air, making Louis want to grin. He doesn’t do that of course, because that would cause his teeth to bare, so instead he decides to dig his nails into the thigh he’s holding. Harry keens under the slight pain.

“Getting close,” Harry manages through stilted breaths. His hips are bucking into Louis’ mouth making it more than obvious anyways. 

The hand wrapped around Harry’s base is dropped. This gives Louis the chance to swallow Harry down so that he nudges at the back of his throat and it allows him to palm at his own hard bulge. Being denied attention for so long, Louis can’t help but moan immediately when he starts rubbing circles on himself. That seems to be all Harry needs to hit his height of pleasure and suddenly he’s coming, the wet substance hitting the back of Louis’ tongue all at once.

He’s sure to pull Harry through it, stopping only when he hears a long sigh of relief and Harry’s hand releases his matted hair. Louis swallows the come with no problem, wiping the excess spit from his mouth as he stands up and grins at Harry.

“Was that memorable enough?” He asks against Harry’s parted lips. They’re bitten red from the bliss Harry was set in.

“Shit, you know it was,” Harry growls before taking Louis’ lips into his own. He licks into Louis’ mouth and hums in satisfaction which turns Louis on more than he already is, the thought of Harry tasting himself making him get hot. 

Suddenly, Harry flips their positions, pressing Louis against the metal backing of the letter now. When their eyes meet Louis sees more than just lust in his eyes — there’s love, so clearly love in them. It twinkles in his deep green irises, reflects back into Louis’ own bright blue ones. For so long he’s looked into the same eyes and seen nothing but redness from a high or amusement because of a cartoon on TV. Now, he can look into them and see himself. 

It’s cheesy. Harry is definitely corrupting his strong, emotionless ways faster than he expected. He figures it’s okay though because some day Liam will corrupt Zayn too and Louis will never let him live when he says ‘bruh’ for the first time. Of course, Zayn and Niall _and_ Liam already won’t let him live, and the other boys’ corruptions will take much longer so it’s a bit unfair. But all in all, he’ll always be the leader of the pack, Zayn will always be his right hand man, and Harry is now the unofficial co-ruler of their little kingdom. 

They’re an unusual group of misfits, as are all the people in their neighborhood Louis thinks, but they’ve got it nice. And Louis- well, now that he’s got Harry, he’s got it the best of all.

“C’mon now, H-boy. Return the favor so we’ve got _two_ wonderful stories to tell for generations to come.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> i just noticed that the title song's lyrics are basically just 'eleanor' repeated over and over. i love irony!
> 
> anyways, thank you for reading and if you liked it pleaassee leave me comments or kudos.


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